Lately I've been in a lot of waiting rooms with two loved ones who are having some health issues. Waiting rooms are anxious spaces where my mind rather easily tries to fill the "empty" space of waiting with unhelpful stories about what “could” happen. Waiting like this is very weighty. The good news is there is another way - a way to weightlessly wait.
During the introspective season of Lent, we come face to face with our mistakes. As we do, it can be tempting to decide that we stink at being good people. Yoga offers a gentle view of mistakes. They are simply invitations to keep practicing - informed but unencumbered by our earlier mistakes.
Happy Valentine's Day! On this day devoted to love, it's important to remember that we humans have always struggled to love one another. For millennia, teachers have been showing us that, in addition to being hard, messy, and exhausting, relationships are everything. Or, in the immortal words of the Beatles, "All you need is love, love. Love is all you need."
I have a secret for you that poets, philosophers, and mystics have been pointing to for millennia - we are all part of an unimaginably huge whole. Knowing and even believing this truth pales in comparison to feeling it. I believe it is possible for any and all of us to feel this wholeness - even if for just a moment - when we learn to slow down and pay attention to what is going on around us and within us.
Sometimes it takes a long time for the depths of meaning of experiences to reveal themselves. A year after I saw her, my encounter with a tiger reveals a deep and elusive truth - who I am is infinitely more lasting and breathtaking than anything I could ever do. The same is true for you.
Sometimes a quote I've read dozens of times suddenly makes sense in a whole new way. The one I explore here, by Richard Rohr, did just this and gave me a new way to answer a question I'm asked a lot - "Why should I practice?"
For a while now I’ve been noodling over a little piece of advice that I found on Instagram: "Do it from love, not for love." The idea feels huge. Like freedom and generosity and happiness and wisdom all rolled up into one well-crafted little sentence. What does it look like? Where does the love that inspires these gestures come from? Read on ...
On the first night of our family vacation, I had a moment of perfect contentment. It was late. We were hungry. The restaurant was too loud, too warm, too crowded, too slow. AND I was perfectly happy. Happiness and contentment are not around the corner in some imaginary future. They are right smack in the middle of each messy, hangry, less-than-perfect, hilarious moment along the way. All we have to do is notice.
I love the saying, "No mud? No lotus!" It's helpful when we catch ourselves slipping back into a bad habit we thought we’d broken long ago; or are filled with remorse for saying something we never should have said; or when we let an opportunity to help a friend slip by because we were overwhelmed with our own issues. In "muddy" moments like this, the lotus reminds us that it's only by being aware of our own "muck" that we can rise again to bloom brightly in the world.